I Need Some Hot Stuff, Baby, This Evening....

Uh-oh! You know what the Unicorn means! That's right. Attention all ye innocents.... read no further! Stare at the pretty pony and avoid scrolling down!




















Ha. Like my unicorn diversion really even works.

At any rate......

I was having one of those days.

You know the kind of days I am talking about.

I don't know how it feels to a guy, but if you're a woman, it's the kind of day where your skin feels a little too tight, and a little too warm.

You feel restless, almost itchy. The pen you are writing with spends more time being rolled between your fingers than it actually does being used. Each movement you make is slow and sensuous. Each breath feels hot, full of promise.

You find yourself biting your lips a lot, just to make them tingle.

Mmm, yeah.

I was having one of THOSE days.

I have no idea what makes THOSE days come around, but they used to be the bane of my existence back when I was single and trying to wait for marriage.

But guess what I am now?




Well, okay, I'm married with one DragonMonkey, but that's close enough! It's LEGAL now! Yippee!!!

I spent all day trying to figure out how to set the mood.

For the record, I am absolutely TERRIBLE at setting the mood. I think it's because I'm not very romantic. Somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, I know I'm supposed to lead into things. That's what romance is all about, right? I can usually drown that feeling out without much trouble. I've had years of experience ignoring that inner voice of reason.

I'm also an absolutely terrible salesman. I could talk a starving man out of a hamburger, even if that was his only means of survival. "Well, I guess you could eat it," I'd say doubtfully, as he lunged at it with painful, debilitating slowness. "I mean, it's been sitting there in the sun all day... it may look good, but it'll probably give you the runs. Then you'd be even worse off than you are right now. It does smell good, but I wouldn't eat it. I mean, go ahead, if you want, but I dunno. It doesn't even look like beef. I bet it's Chihuahua or something. I mean, buy it if you want. It'd help my profits, but....Oh? You're crawling away? How come? Come back!"

Also for the record yet, that's pretty much the same sales tactic I use when I'm trying to sell The Bean on the idea of making Yippee! with me later on that evening. Usually, by the time I'm done trying to get us both all hot and bothered, we're both laughing too hard at how ludicrous the idea of sex is to even consider trying it.

Not this time, though! Not when I was having one of those days! Bound and determined to make it happen, I went through all the necessary mood-setting steps.

Heck, I even stopped off at Kohl's and bought myself a little white nightgown to make it obvious to the Bean. I never wear nightgowns to bed-- I'm a fluffy flannel pants and stained ol' tank top kind of a gal.

After we put the DragonMonkey to bed, I set a plate of food in front of the Bean to distract him while I slipped off into the shower. I even poured him an enormous glass of wine to help mellow him out

Dashing off to the bathroom, I got ready in record time. I showered. I scrubbed. I used the expensive soap (Sensual Amber Pleasures by Bath and Body... How could I go wrong with a name like that?) and I slathered it on with generous abandon. I even shaved my legs.

I blow-dried my hair, and even curled the ends slightly. I ripped the Clearance tag off my new nightgown ($11.99! Yeah!), and I dabbed on some light makeup.

I ran my fingers through my hair, flipping it over one shoulder.

There. Perfect.

Out I sashayed into the living room, leading with my hips. I wished I had though to turn on a little Nora Jones (I'm just sitting here...waiting for you to come on home...and turn me ooonn)

I paused at the entrance to the living room, posing against the door frame. I glanced over the Bean, hoping he'd make an appreciative sound, and maybe even comment on who I so-OBVIOUSLY resembled.




The Bean did not comment.

He didn't even make an appreciative sound.

In fact, the only sound he was making was the sound of deep, even breathing. He was face-down on our new Lovesac, completely asleep. His face was smashed into the cushioning, mouth akimbo. I think I even saw a little puddle of drool.




Annoyed at myself for obviously taking too long getting ready, I realized I might still be able to salvage the situation. After all, it was one of those days. I wasn't about to let a little thing like my husband's exhaustion get in the way.

Sinking down to lay beside him, I arranged myself in my most nonchalant sexy pose. I laid a gentle hand on his back, and rubbed slightly.

"ARE YOU ASLEEP?" I asked in a booming voice.

The Bean jumped slightly, then turned to face me. "Huh? Oh. Uh. Yeah."

"OH, SORRY. DID I WAKE YOU? I DIDN'T MEAN TO WAKE YOU UP." I rubbed his back softly, gently, to make up for my linebacker voice. "I JUST WANTED TO FIND OUT HOW YOUR DAY WENT AT WORK."

To his credit, the Bean didn't show any annoyance at my sudden, mundane chattiness. Instead, he stretched, rolled over on his side, and began to sleepily recount his day in between jaw-cracking yawns.

I ignored his yawns and obvious exhaustion and feigned total absorption in what he was saying. "YOU'RE KIDDING! YOU WENT UP TO THE BUSINESS OFFICE AT WORK? THEN WHAT?"

As he spoke, I leaned on my side, sucked in my belly, and did my best to look like I was posing for a page in the Victoria's Secret magazine.

The Bean did not notice. So I took it up a notch.

I ran my fingers through my hair, laughing in warm, suggestive tones at all the appropriate places in his stories. I encouraged him to continue speaking, asking interested, open-ended questions to keep him from going back to sleep. I licked my lips once or twice.

Still, the Bean did not notice. Obviously, I was going to have to go all out.

Running a hand from my hair down to the collar of my new nightgown, I began to play with the straps. I looked up at him from beneath my lashes, smiling slightly as I fiddled with the low-cut top.

The Bean stopped mid-sentence, and glanced downward at my inviting hand, then glanced back into my eyes. "Why are you scratching your boob? Do you have a rash?"







SIGH.

"No, Bean, it's just itchy. Come on. Let's go to bed and go to sleep."